


Silence Underwater

by Marsipaani



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marsipaani/pseuds/Marsipaani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After suffering an injury, Haru has to quit his career as a professional swimmer. He returns to Iwatobi, to live with Makoto until he figures out how to begin his life anew.</p><p>Warnings for depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lungs filled with water

**Author's Note:**

> The first part is darker than what I have in mind for the second part. If you fear drowning or plain crashes this chapter might be triggering, although neither of those things happen.

Of course Haru had known he wasn't going to swim forever, but when he hit the wall he was still completely unprepared.  
  
It was his shoulder, like it usually is for swimmers. He had trained too hard or done wrong kind of movements, he didn't know and he didn't care. The doctor had told him that competitive swimming was over for him for sure, especially since he was already almost thirty years old.  
  
Haru was yet to win gold medal in olympics, and now he never would. His coach had been sure he'd do it, this time. Rin had been certain of it, too, and Rin knew what Haru could do better than he did himself.  
  
Haru felt absolutely nothing when he left the hospital, except fort the faint "now what?"  
  
There was nothing else he had ever imagined doing.  
  
  
  
  
"Hello, Makoto."  
  
"Haru! How are you? I haven't heard of you in months," Makoto's voice carried over the phone, familiar but so far away.  
  
"Yes," Haru answered. Makoto had alway's felt a need to state the obvious. "I am coming home. I… I hurt my shoulder. They don't think I can swim anymore."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Oh, Haru."  
  
Haru didn't know how to read Makoto's tone of voice. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to call him. After all, Haru didn't like talking to people over the phone, so when he was oceans away, he never kept in touch. He had been told it was rude, but he didn't really understand why. When he was in Japan he saw his friends, when he wasn't, he didn't.  
  
"Are you coming to Iwatobi?" Makoto asked.  
  
"I don't know." Haru had a flat in Tokyo, the closest thing he had for a home, but he spent less than fifty days a year in there. He was always traveling, always on a training camp or competition somewhere.  
  
"I have a spare room. I know it's not the kind of thing you're used to but…"  
  
Haru sighed. "You know I don't care about that." He tried to imagine Makoto's smile, but as always, he couldn't recall how it really looked like.  
  
"But you know, since you are rich and famous and…"  
  
"Makoto, stop." Logically Haru knew Makoto was teasing him, but without seeing his expression he couldn't be completely sure. Maybe Makoto was blaming him instead.  
  
"Sorry, Haru. Really, I want you to come here. I've missed you."  
  
Haru sighed again, more wetly this time. "Yes," he said. The words didn't come, no matter how hard he tried. "I'll text you when I know when I'll be there." Haru ended the call abruptly.  
  
  
  
  
During the flight Haru thought of Rin. Haru wondered if he already knew. Haru didn't know how to tell him, or even what to tell him, so in the end he hadn't called. His stomach felt heavy, maybe it was guilt. His coach had told him that Rin deserved to hear this from Haru, but Haru hated to talk over the phone. Everything was hard enough as it was.  
  
From the window Haru could only see the ocean. Endless blue from horizon to horizon. He imagined the plane falling, splashing to the surface and sinking deep into the sea where all was silent. He imagined seeing the fish swimming right next to his window, the plane slowly filling with cold water, the lights blinking and turning off. The ocean getting darker the deeper they sunk. Water slowly rising. Haru would open his seatbelt, wade to the nearest exit and dive. He'd fill his lungs with salty water. There was no point in fighting to get to the surface, because he was already too deep. There was nothing left to do but to accept the inevitable.  
  
No-one would ever find his body.  
  
But the plane didn't fall and so eventually Haru had to get up and walk away. The airport was busy but none of those people was there to meet him. Makoto had his work so Haru hadn't told him what flight he'd take, only that he'd arrive to Iwatobi sometime tonight. Otherwise Makoto would have neglected his duties to come and meet him.  
  
Haru only had hand luggage, so he headed straight to his flat. There should be some clean clothing in the closet, something that wan't his warmup jacket or swimming trunks or training shoes. None of which he needed anymore.  
  
The flat was as empty as he remembered. There was a bottle of soy sauce in the fridge, a month old newspaper opened from the sports section on the living room table, but nothing else indicated that someone lived here. Haru rummaged his closet, picking up jeans and t-shirts and underwear at random. Was it cold in Iwatobi already? If he took his winter clothing with him would it mean he was going to stay? How long would he be welcome at Makoto's?  
  
In the end Haru decided not to take his warmer jacket and sturdier boots with him.  
  
  
  
  
Iwatobi was simultaniously the same and different. The last time he had visited it had been brief, just for a day, and he hadn't really had time to look around. But now he walked slowly to Makoto's place, turning his head from side to side to look at everything at once like a tourist.  
  
The town was so small. Haru was used to sitting in a taxi for an hour to get where he was going to but here everything was within walking distance. There were some new buildings, some trees were missing and the ones left were taller than he remembered. Makoto's flat was in one of the newer houses near the center, that hadn't been there when they were kids.  
  
Haru had never been here. He had always visited Makoto's parents while in Iwatobi, because that's what Makoto had suggested. Haru had never thought much of it, but now it seemed strange.  
  
The flat was in third floor. Haru thought of taking the stairs, but then he remembered that there was no point in exercising any more. Why not be lazy and take the lift?  
  
Haru rung the doorbell and waited. What if Makoto wasn't home yet?  
  
And then the door opened. They stared at each other for what felt like too long, and then the corners of Makoto's eyes crinkled, but Haru never saw the smile reach his mouth because Makoto was hugging him tightly and all he saw was the green material of his shirt.  
  
Makoto even smelled familiar. Haru took a deep breath and allowed himself to bury his face to Makoto's broad shoulder for a brief moment before breaking the contact.  
  
"Come in," Makoto said. "I didn't know when you'd come, so the dinner is not ready yet. I'm making mackerel."  
  
"Okay," Haru said. "Thanks."  
  
Makoto turned to look at him, his smile blindingly wide. "No problem. I'm so glad you're here."  
  
Haru had to look away before he would do something weird, like burst out crying or grab Makotos's shirt to sniff the indescribable scent of home again.  
  
  
  
  
Bright lights. Loud noises.  
  
"Take your marks."  
  
Haru stood perfectly still, ready to dive in. This time he would do it for sure. The whistle blew and he jumped.  
  
Underwater, it was silent. No crowd, no other swimmers, nothing to disturb him. He pushed himself to the surface and–  
  
There was no-one there. No other swimmers, no crowd, nothing but the empty pool. Suddenly Haru realized there was no water either, that he was laying on the hard, cold tiles, unable to move.  
  
He tried to take a breath but then he remembered he had gills instead of lungs and he couldn't survive on dry land. So this is how it feels like, he thought faintly–  
  
"Haru. Haru, wake up!"  
  
Haru woke up with a start. He had the taste of salt in his mouth.  
  
"You were crying in your sleep."  
  
Darkness. Where was he? Haru took a breath that turned into a sob.  
  
"Makoto?"  
  
He felt Makoto's fingers on his face, wiping his tears. "It's okay," he said.  
  
Haru cried harder. He pulled Makoto closer, doing what he only dared to do in the middle of the night, when all this could as well be a dream. Haru cried against Makoto's chest, ugly, loud sobs, until his shirt was wet and Haru's body run out of water. Makoto whispered something in his hair but he didn't catch the words.  
  
Makoto always stated the obvious, so there was no need to hear it.  
  
Next morning Haru woke up alone with a headache. His eyes were glued shut and his mouth was dry and tasted nasty.  
  
  
  
  
Makoto didn't have a bathtub. Haru took quick showers. He avoided looking out the window, because you could see the glint of the ocean from up here.  
  
When he left the flat he always walked away from the shore, aimlessly. His walks turned longer and longer, to wear out the yearning he didn't want to name. The dull ache of his shoulder never stopped.  
  
He didn't wake up crying after that first night. Sometimes he wondered if he had truly dreamed of Makoto coming to hold him, because they never spoke about it aftewards.  
  
All of their discussions were brief and mundane. It was like Makoto was trying to tame a wild animal, unsure of how to approach him. Haru didn't know what he wanted Makoto to do, but it was not this. The careful words, discreet glances when he thought Haru wasn't looking. Haru wanted to scream.  
  
Makoto had always had a lot of friends. They visited him almost every other day, and usually Haru locked himself in Makoto's guest room. He could hear their muffled voices, the way the were talking about him even when the words were different. After a while Makoto stopped inviting his friends over, going somewhere else to meet them instead. Soon enough he stopped asking Haru to come with him.  
  
Maybe Haru should just leave before he dragged Makoto down to the bottom with him. Makoto smiled only with his mouth these days.  


  
Haru woke up to insistent ringing of the doorbell. Makoto was at work, it was maybe eleven in the morning. The room was dark, because the blinds were drawn.  
  
He decided to ignore the doorbell. Whoever it was, they were looking for Makoto, because Haru didn't even live here.  
  
The ringing turned into knocking, and the knocking became louder and louder, until it was more like banging. "Haru! Haru, I know you're in there, open the door!"  
  
It was Rin. Haru lay completely still, holding his breath.  
  
"If you don't open I'm just gonna stay here until Makoto comes home!" Rin shouted.  
  
Haru slowly lifted his body from the futon, so heavy outside the water. He fished around for some clothes and dragged his feet to the door.  
  
Rin sat on the stairs leading to attic, turning his head sharply as Haru cracked the door open. He hurried to get up to hold the door open, like he was afraid Haru would shut it on his face.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Haru asked as Rin just kept staring at him.

 "I wanted to see you, stupid." He stepped inside, uninvited. His purposeful steps and the confident way he held himself reminded Haru of training camps, professional swimmers whose bodies were perfectly running machines, flawless tools of their trade.  
  
For the first time in his life he felt small compared to Rin.  
  
Haru made tea. They went to the living room and sat down on the floor.  
  
"So, is it really over?" Rin asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Rin slammed the teacup on the table so that most of the liquid splashed on the smooth surface. "I don't believe it!"  
  
It was not a matter of believing. Haru shrugged.  
  
Rin spread the tea on the table with his long forefinger. "Aren't you gonna even try to heal? To get back?"  
  
The shoulder ached again, like it new Rin was talking about it. "What's the point? My career would have been over in a few years, anyway."  
  
They were the same age. Rin didn't have that much time left, either.  
  
"But I wanted to swim the relay with you in the Olympics," Rin said in a small voice. The last time Haru was in the Olympics, Rin didn't make it to the team. It was a draw, and they had sworn they'd swim in the relay, next time.  
  
They had been both accepted, but now it was Haru who wasn't strong enough to be there.  
  
Haru swallowed. "I wanted to swim with you, too."  
  
He could hear Rin crying. "This isn't fair! After all we've been through…" He said with a shaky voice.  
  
Haru went to the kitchen to fetch a rag for wiping the spilled tea and a tissue for Rin.


	2. Sometimes all you need is a little push

Rin stayed for three nights. He slept on the living room floor, and Haru almost tripped over him when he went to bathroom sometime during the first night. He bumped into Rin in the morning in the kitchen, and later managed to open the bathroom door while he was inside. Makoto had never been in Haru's way while he had been staying in Iwatobi.

During the daytime Rin accompanied Haru to his walks. Rin had never learned how to cook, so every day Haru fried mackerel for the both of them. He made enough for Makoto to warm in the microwave when he got home from work. He seemed pleased to find dinner waiting for him, even if it was always the same thing.

On the third day the were walking around the town again. Rin kept on talking about the swimmers he'd face in the Olympics, their strong points and the weaknesses he didn't think they had. Haru had never cared much about who he was swimming against, but to Rin it was all about preparations and strategy. Still, Haru was interested in Rin's observations, so much that he was surprised when they suddenly stepped out from between the buildings and were faced with ocean, glistening in the harsh autumn sunshine.

Rin sighed. "I don't know how I'll manage without you there." He walked closer to the waterline, and Haru had no choice but to follow him.

"You will win," Haru said, turning to look at Rin. "You'll win, because you are amazing. You don't really need me to be strong."

Rin shook his head. "That's not true. You know I swim better with you." The rising wind brought the smell of salt to Haru's nose and blew Rin's hair off his face.

Haru looked away. This beach was the same as always, the place where he had came to swim when he was a child, back when Makoto still feared the ocean. Rin, who had had even more reason to be afraid, had been the one who always asked Haru to come swimming, who had pulled Haru into the waves with him.

"I needed you, too. I think. Without you I would have never gotten this far." Haru paused. He thought about Makoto, how he always said aloud the things they both knew already. "But you are the fastest swimmer in our team now. You have worked hard to become this strong. You have done it yourself, not me."

For once Rin was silent. Haru had nothing else to say either.

Eventually they left the beach.

 

Rin had to leave early in the morning to catch his flight, but the three of them stayed up late, regardless. The storm raged outside, but the kitchen of Makoto's flat was warm and safe, the table bathing in yellow light and a faint smell of cooking from earlier lingering in the air.

Haru had lost the track of the conversation a long time ago. He was resting his heavy head on his hands. He watched Rin's ever-changing expressions as he imitated the French swimmers they had faced in the World Champions two years ago and listened to Makoto's laughter right next to him. The sound was deeper when Haru leaned against Makoto's collarbone. Maybe hearing it coming though his body like this was how Makoto heard his own voice. It felt like little earthquakes.

Next thing he knew, Rin was saying "...think we should wake him up?"

Haru felt Makoto's words  _I don't want to_  vibrate against his cheek.

Both of Haru's friends were silent for awhile, or maybe he just fell asleep again.

_You know I've always... never mind_ , Haru thought he felt Makoto saying.

"I know," Rin answered in a low voice. "But I don't think he does."

Silence. Haru struggled to stay awake, desperate to hear what they'd say next. He tried to imagine what kind of expression Makoto was wearing, but he had no idea.

_Come on_ , Makoto said in the end, pushing Haru's shoulders, "time to go to bed, Haru."

Haru lifted his head, squinting his eyes. "Yeah, okay," he muttered, shivering when Makoto's arm was no longer wrapped around him.

 

Next morning they had both woken up before the sunrise to bid Rin goodbye. "I was thinking," Makoto begun slowly as they were sipping tea, watching the sky slowly growing lighter outside.

Haru looked at Makoto, silently urging him to go on.

"Would you like to come to the pool today, with me?"

Haru considered it. "Why?"

Makoto uttered a small laughter. "What do you mean why? Why not?"

Haru's stomach flipped. Was it fear? Or excitement? Whatever it was, he had turn away from Makoto's inquiring gaze.

"Okay." He glanced at Makoto again. His eyes had the crescent shape that Haru recognized as meaning genuine happiness. It was different from when he smiled with his mouth.

 

Makoto was coach Sasabe's business partner, so in the mornings he usually had administrative work and his afternoons were spent coaching children.Today he had a group of first-graders who already knew how to swim, and were exited to learn new strokes.

All except one.

"Hama-chan! Will you come to the water today?" Makoto asked a small girl, who was sitting on a bench, staring at her bare feet. Her black hair was cut in a perfect, silky bob, the fringe so sharp it looked like it was drawn with a ruler. She was wearing a bright yellow swimsuit that made her skin look sickly kind of blueish. She shook her head, once. Makoto left it at that, but Haru sat down next to her.

After awhile the girl slowly lifted her head to look at him. "Why don't you swim?" she asked.

"Why don't you?" Haru shot back, before realizing that he was maybe being a bit childish.

The girl glared at him. "I don't wanna."

Haru nodded. "I guess I don't want to, either."

"I only come here because my parents make me." They both looked at Makoto, who was showing how to not do breaststroke with exaggerated gestures, making the other children laugh. "They said I have to come here and make friends," she continued, with a tone of voice that was too ironic for her age.

"Okay," Haru answered.

"It's not working," the girl said, swinging her feet forcefully in the air.

Haru nodded. He could see that.

  

"Are you Nanase Haruka-san, the famous swimmer?" One of the kids asked when the practice was over.

 Makoto glanced at Haru. When he didn't answer right away, Makoto opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Haru hurried to say yes.

 "You're my big brother's favorite!" The child babbled excitedly.

 Makoto smiled. "Haruka-san is my favorite swimmer too."

 Are you going to swim in the Olympics next summer, Nanase-san?" another one asked, a boy who looked to small to even go to school yet.

 "No. I hurt my shoulder, so I can't swim anymore."

 The boy stared at him with wide eyes. "So... do you drown if you go to water?" he asked incredulously.

 "No, stupid," the girl next to him sneered. She was a head taller than him, and had a superior attitude to match. "Nanase-san means he won't be swimming in the competitions any more."

 "That's right." Makoto said. "You have to be super fast to swim in the Olympics."

 "Oh," the boy said. "Whose gonna win then, if Nanase-san isn't there?"

 Makoto burst out laughing. "You never know who will win before the race is over."

 

"Hama has never said a word to me," Makoto said as they were walking back. "I've been trying to be patient, so that maybe eventually she'd open up and join the others."

 Haru looked straight ahead. He took ten steps before finding the right words: "Maybe you're being too patient."

 He glanced at Makoto, who was looking right back at him. "What do you mean?"

 "You always..." Haru paused. "You wait and wait for people to come to you. But sometimes... they need a little push."

 Now it was Makoto who looked away. "You mean I should throw her into the water, kicking and screaming?"

 "No," Haru scoffed. "I mean, you should show her you care weather or not she does it. That you want her to come swim with the others."

 "Hmm." The streetlamps turned on around them. The evening begun to seem darker when Haru's eyes got used to the artificial lighting.

 "When you ignore her like that, it feels like it doesn't matter to you what she does."

 "Oh," Makoto said in a small voice. "I never thought of it like that."

 Haru's hands were shaking, and not only because it was cold.

 

The next day there was a smell of snow in the air. When Makoto suggested that Haru should go and fetch his winter clothes from Tokyo, he found himself agreeing. It didn't snow in Iwatobi every year, but this time it felt like there would be an exception.

The traffic in Tokyo hurt Haru's ears, because he had already gotten used to silence of a smaller town.

He picked all his warmer clothes as well as his swimming trunks. When he he closed the door, he knew he'd never spend another night in there. Next time he'd come here it would be to sell the place.

On the train on his way home he felt like crying again. It was a physical feeling, a tightness in his throat and heaviness behind his eyes, but his mind was almost completely blank.

 

The next time Haru accompanied Makoto to work, he took his swimming trunks with him.

"You seem happy," Makoto observed.

"Hmm." Haru's body felt light. "I guess so."

It was the same group of first graders today. They all stared at him when they saw him wearing the trunks. Haru walked right up to Hama.

"If I go to water, will you come with me?" he asked.

Hama glared at him from under her bangs. "But I don't want to swim."

"How do you know if you haven't tried?"

Hama shrugged. Makoto urged other children towards the pool.

Hama shifted. She took a deep breath before murmuring: "I guess I could, if you come too."

Haru caught Makoto's eyes and smiled. Makoto grinned back from the other side of the pool.

Slowly they walked to the shallow end. Haru went to the water first, and turned to wait for Hama. She took the steps, reluctantly. The water was deep enough to reach her neck.

Then suddenly Hama grabbed her nose and sunk underwater. Haru jerked forward, ready to lift her up, but Hama dived like she had done it a million times before, kicking with her small feet. She soon got up for air. She wasn't smiling, exactly, but her frown had disappeared.

"I didn't know you could swim!" Makoto said excitedly.

"Of course I can, I'm already seven years old," Hama answered matter-of-factly.

"That's right," Makoto agreed in all seriousness. "We're learning how to do the kick in the breaststroke today. Can you do that too?"

Hama shook her head. "No." She grabbed the swimming board Makoto was offering. "But I can try."

During the rest of the practice Haru swam back and forth in the next row. He only caught bits and pieces of the conversations, because whenever his head was underwater he didn't hear anything. It was over too soon, and he wouldn't have gotten up from the water if Makoto hadn't been on the edge of the pool, offering his hand.

"Haru-chan, let's go," he said, making the children giggle.

"Don't call me that."

 

Makoto's eyes never left Haru's face on their walk back. He tried to ask what it was about, but Makoto just shook his head. Haru's cheeks were burning.

"Haru-chan?" Makoto said when they were back home, sitting around the kitchen table.

Haru lifted his gaze.

"Have I been ignoring you? Do you feel like I don't care about you? Because, if you do, it's... it's the complete opposite." Makoto was biting his lower lip.

Haru reflected on their conversations over the past few days. Finally, it dawned to him. "I'm not a child."

"I know that!" Makoto's cheeks were red.

Haru waited for him to say something more. Makoto took a deep breath.

"After I moved back to Iwatobi, I missed you so much. I called you every day, remember?"

"Yes," Haru answered.

"But after awhile, you didn't pick up the phone anymore."

Haru nodded. "I don't like talking over the phone."

"I know," Makoto said. "But... I just wanted to hear your voice, you see. I though... I though you didn't care about me anymore, when you never answered."

Haru sighed. "I missed you too. But hearing you, without being able to see you,"  _to smell you_ , Haru thought, blushing, "it just made it worse. I never learned how to tell what people are thinking just by hearing their voices, you know that."

Makoto made an agreeing noise. "But now that you're finally here, I have no idea what to do. It's like I don't even know you anymore."

Haru frowned. They were silent for awhile.

"Do you remember, in college? The only party you ever went to?"

Haru's heart hammered in his chest. "Yes," he breathed.

"When we... when I kissed you?"

Haru nodded.

"I thought I had ruined it all. I thought you'd be mad at me, or worse. That it'd get awkward between us. That we'd just drift apart."

"I wasn't angry," Haru murmured. He swallowed. "I waited for you to say something, the next day. And the day after that. But you didn't, so I though it was nothing. I thought maybe you forgot about it."

"Oh, Haru." Makoto was looking away.

Suddenly Haru felt a spark of something, impatience or maybe amusement. Makoto could be so slow sometimes.

"Hey," he said sharply. "Look at me."

Makoto shook his head.

Haru grabbed his cheeks, pulling his face close enough for their noses to brush. He smiled. "How could we be so stupid," he whispered before pushing his lips against Makoto's.

He closed his eyes, feeling the shape of Makoto's mouth against his own. Makoto grabbed his shoulders, and it was a bit awkward to be sitting on different chairs but Haru didn't care. Makoto opened his mouth, and Haru pushed his tongue inside, to taste. His saliva didn't taste like anything much, to be honest, but something about it made Haru breath harshly through his nose. He felt like his body wasn't quite real, that the only places having any sense left were his lips, his palms on Makoto's cheeks and the places where Makoto's fingers dug into his shoulders. Then Makoto bit lightly his lower lip and suddenly all feeling rushed back to his body, especially to his groin. Haru whimpered, moving his hands to bury them into the soft hair on the back of Makoto's head. He tried to climb into Makoto's lap, but he was stopped.

"Wait," Makoto gasped. "Let's... let's not do this here."

Haru panted, staring at Makoto's face, the dilated pupils and disheveled hair. He didn't remember how to speak with words.

Makoto tried to calm his breathing. "Come," he said, taking Haru's hand.

Haru's feet were unsteady when he followed Makoto to his bedroom. They lay on the bed, facing each other in the darkness. Makoto run his fingers along Haru's face. His hands were always so warm. Haru leaned closer. Makoto took a breath, about to say something, but he never did. Haru waited for a second, and then surged forward to kiss him again.

Makoto always felt a need to state the obvious, so it didn't matter if he didn't say it, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to [this song](http://marsi-paani.tumblr.com/post/98452162418/somewhere-there-are-ships-near-the-sacred-ground) on repeat while writing this. I even translated it, though it may be that I understood it completely wrong. After all, even native Russian speakers seem to have disagreements over what it means. And [this one](http://marsi-paani.tumblr.com/post/89741368303/coachcalledme-thetiger-bjork-come-to-me/) is Makoto's tune, for sure.
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading and don't hesitate to leave a comment if there's anything you'd like to say!

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://purukumiprinsessa.tumblr.com/)


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